


that'll do

by celosiaa



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, and an electric blanket, and cats!!!, many cats, martin is sick and whiny, no for real its fluff, we love to see it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27125422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celosiaa/pseuds/celosiaa
Summary: a little ficlet featuring lots of cuddles, cats, and an electric blanket :)
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 21
Kudos: 113





	that'll do

“I’m so LONELY!” calls Martin’s rather small-sounding voice from the bedroom of their tiny apartment, breaking off into a coughing fit at the effort of complaining loudly enough for Jon to hear him.

For his part, Jon has been bent over his desk for nearly two hours now, grading papers in between answering emails from his very stressed students. Just one more term, and he’ll have finished with his doctorate, finish that next step in his dream of becoming a full professor.

Well, his new dream, that is.

Life with Martin will always be his first, and best.

“That’s not funny, habibi,” Jon calls back, a smile evident in his tone all the same.

“You know what I—“ he breaks off to cough again rather painfully, causing Jon to wince in sympathy. “—know what I meant.”

It had been a battle to get him to relax in bed for a bit, under the pretense of having a nap to sleep off whatever illness he’d managed to pick up at work. Truth be told, some pressure Jon had not realized he’d been holding in his chest eases at the fact that Martin is joking with him, _whining_ even—something he would only ever do in jest. Everything that was a legitimate complaint or worry tended to register itself in Martin’s head as whining, no matter how much Jon tried to assure him of the contrary.

So, as some sort of transactionary measure to balance out whatever burden he felt he was placing on Jon’s shoulders by existing, Martin had made sure to drape the electric blanket over Jon’s legs with a kiss on the head before heading off to have a lie down.

And the cats? The cats are in _heaven_.

Currently, Jon has Martin’s cat—Salem—curled up in his lap with her head pressed rapturously into his thigh. His own kitten—the Duquessa, for of course, she must have a proper name—sleeps in the pocket by his feet, purring nonstop ever since she had found her splendid little hideaway. It’s perfect, it’s lovely, it’s _distracting him from grading_ —and Martin is unbearably jealous.

“ _Why_ don’t they love me,” he says dramatically, words just a bit slurred and pulling Jon’s lips into a frown.

_That’ll be the fever, then._

“They do love you, they just like the blanket,” he calls back, already closing his laptop and arranging himself to get up.

“Chopped _broccoli_ , I am to them,” he laments as Jon enters the room, sniffing both for accent and against his congestion.

“Broccoli?” Jon asks with a smile as he bends down to sweep away Martin’s fringe and kiss his forehead—finding it pouring off heat, even against his shivering frame.

“Yeah. Broccoli,” he pouts, fever-glassed eyes searching for Jon’s as he plugs in the electric blanket again. “Chopped liver, at least they would eat.”

_God, I love you._

Turning back to him with a smile and a shake of the head, Jon tumbles into bed next to him, pulling the electric blanket over them both. Naturally, the cats are soon to follow—Salem padding her paws into the crinkling fabric before settling directly on Martin’s chest, while the Duquessa curls up near their feet.

“See?” Jon giggles, stroking a thumb over the line of Martin’s jaw. “All about the warmth. Though I would have thought you had enough to share on your own.”

“Hmm. Suppose this means I’m not getting a kiss then?”

“Perhaps not,” he murmurs, kissing the top of Martin’s shoulder, his cheek, lingering on his forehead once again. “Will this do?”

“That’ll do,” he whispers, letting his eyes fall closed as Jon begins to run fingers through his hair. “That’ll do excellently.”

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed this tooth-rotting fluff!! come find me on tumblr @celosiaa if you want!
> 
> have a good day!  
> -love, connor


End file.
